Another
by proximityinfatuation
Summary: Leah never thought that she could fall in love again, but what happens if she does, and it was with the most forbidden person?
1. Chapter 1

**O N E**

"Leah, dear." I continued twirling my spoon around and around the soup, like I didn't hear my mom. She heaved a sigh and my lips curled into a smile as she did. Thank god I made it clear that I still didn't want to talk to her.

"Seth?" My eyes shifted to Seth in a gunshot. _Ignore her,_ I wanted to shout out. Unfortunately, he withdrew his eyes from his soup and looked at mom.

"Mm'hmm?" I stepped on his foot from under the table. He glared at me and I glared back, showing him my 'didn't-I-tell-you-to-give-mom-the-silent-treatment' look.

"I don't know how to say this." Mom looked sadly at something from under the table, obviously looking for the right words to say. I knew that I should be ignoring her for being so un-motherly lately, but I couldn't help but wonder about what it was she wanted to tell us.

Seth reached for her hand and he tenderly rubbed her knuckles. "Go on, ma."

"You see, George and I…" Thick black liquid brewed from the deepest pits of my heart as soon as I heard the wretched name. George, this bald, stubby man with hideously oily skin and a revolting thick black moustache covering half of his face, has been coming in and out of our house lately. Mom told me that he was her business partner, so I didn't give a fuck about him back then. One day, I lifted the phone to call a friend, and then I heard my mother purring on the other line with some man who was moaning. The phone slipped from my hands and I gagged endlessly in the bathroom. It was the grossest thing I've ever heard that my body probably ran out of things for me to puke out. I learned that it was George who she was talking to; that they've been dating for three months and what I just heard was a near phone-sex encounter. I purged and cried my eyes out the night I knew. How could mom do this? My life was too fucked up already—dad died, Sam left me for Emily and now I'm some half human, half dog—and now she's adding to the heavy load by marrying a despicable looking man whom she only dated for three months.

I didn't know what was happening to her. It wasn't even a year since dad's death, and now she has a new man. I closed my eyes, remembering the vague memories of him teaching me how to pray, how to spell, how to add and subtract. I remembered how I'd always tug at his shaggy hair and he'd tug my hair back, how he smelled like tobacco each time we hugged, how the stubbles on his chin scratched against my fingers as I traced them. Eventually, I remembered the more recent memories—memories of him separating me from Sam back in junior high because he knew Sam would imprint soon, memories of him taking me back in his arms even if I eloped with Sam to escape from him, memories of him comforting me when I learned about Sam and Emily and the guilt I felt because I didn't listen, and the memory of his eyes turning white as he was clutching his chest the moment I turned into a monster. He was so alive back then, and it was so hard to believe that now, he's a rotting corpse somewhere six feet under the ground. His laughter was still so clear to me whenever I tried to remember how it sounded like, so clear that it always made me weep. He was a good man, and the least mom could do was to respect his death by not trying to desperately find his replacement.

"Yes?" Seth encouraged my mom to go on. I opened my eyes again, and I wasn't surprised when I felt the moisture in my eyes. I always cried whenever I remembered him.

"George and I…are getting married."

My hands curled into fists, and the silver spoon I was holding noisily broke into two pieces as I did. "_Shut up_." I hissed with my teeth clenched. "I'm not letting you marry that son of a bitch."

"He's a good man, Leah. He'll be a good daddy." _A good daddy?_ I wanted to scream at her face. There will only be one man who could be my daddy, and no one else. How could she think that that little bulldog could be like dad?

"We'll be whole again, like before." She croaked.

"Look, _bitch_, we'll never be whole again unless dad rises from the dead! I can't believe you'd do this to him! He loved you so much and now you're replacing him for some dirty old man? Some _hobo_ we don't even know? Are you _fucking_ crazy? Have you lost your mind?" In an instant, mom's face was full of creases and she started to cry loudly. It wasn't enough. I wanted to make her cry even more.

"_Leah_!" Seth growled.

"Stay out of this, dickhead." I stood up, kicked my chair away, and headed for mom to knock some sense into her brain. Before I could even tell her one out of the million words I wanted to say, Seth zoomed right in front of me and pushed me halfway across the dining room.

"_I said stay out of this_!" I barked as I staggered to regain balance.

"You don't talk to mom like that, Leah!"

"So you're telling me you'd rather have George as a father? You're just gonna forget dad just like that, _huh_?"

"Don't look at it that way!"

"Wow, you're such a good son." I rolled my eyes.

"Go fuck yourself, bitch! You talk like you're the good one while it's really you who caused his death! _You killed him_!"

Those three words, the words I never wanted to hear, echoed through my ears. I gave my act up, and without realizing it, my lips quivered violently, I fell on the floor and tears poured down my eyes. I'm the reason why he's dead. I killed dad.

"I'm sorry, Leah." From a hostile tone, his voice abruptly softened up. Seth sank down with me and attempted to pull me up. This scene, it's been playing again and again for so many times, and I was sick of it.

"Just leave me alone." I squeaked as the tears slid past my lips. With shaking legs, I ran to my room, looked for my favourite picture of dad smiling ever so happily and cried myself to sleep with it in my arms.

_ **What do you think? I'd really love to get feedback from you guys. Well, that wraps Chapter One, but I swear it's just the start. Hang on for the other chapters that I guarantee are going to be better (this chapter's just an introduction). :D**_


	2. Chapter 2

**T W O**

I was awakened by someone rapping at my door. I opened my swollen eyes for a teensy bit, and the dark blue of early dawn that seeped through my curtains told me that it was about 5 AM. Whoever was outside, he'd have to wait until 12 noon, the time I usually got out of bed. I closed my eyes again, ignoring the knocking, but the more I ignored it, the more it got louder and louder.

"I'm coming, damn it!" Unwillingly, I forced my eyes open, got out of bed and dragged myself towards the door. I saw Seth in his PJs the moment I flung it open.

"Do you know what the fucking time is?"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But Emily had to leave just a while ago for the Makkah rez. She wanted me to give you this ASAP before she left." He placed a long, nearly flat box in my hands. Whatever it was that was in there could surely wait until 12 noon.

"Kay. Thanks. Bye." I swung the door closed, but just when it was about to hit the frame, I noticed a bulky, black suitcase in front of it.

"What the hell is that?" I pointed at the thing.

"It's Randy's stuff."

"Who in hell is Randy?"

"George's son."

"And what the hell are his stuff doing in front of my room?" Before Seth could even answer me, we both heard loud clogging noises, probably someone climbing up the stairs like crazy. George, the ugliest man alive, --so ugly that I pity those who have to look at his fucked up face for every stinking day-- set foot on the stair's landing in seconds, and for some reason, made a beeline towards me with all his hobo-ness.

"Leah!" He stretched his arms open, expecting me to hug him. What made him think that I will? I just eyed him from head to toe, like he was the greatest mistake on earth. The midget was only up to my shoulders, for crying out loud! He was wearing a grey sweatshirt and grey jogging pants, with his enormous belly protruding above the garters.

He put his arms down and blushed. "Sorry about that. I was too fast, wasn't I?" He chuckled. _Look, moron, nothing's funny._

"Maybe this is more appropriate." He cleared his throat and offered me a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Leah Clearwater. I'm George, your mom's fiancée." I stared at his stubby hand, not shaking it and not moving an inch. There was a chunky golden ring around his fat pinkie. What a weirdo.

"Whatever. Look, why the eff are your son's stuff here?"

"We're moving in. Isn't this great!" Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, _oh no_. They _can't_ move in. I'm not allowing them. The house was too small. I could barely move whenever Paul just wants to sleepover for some reason, and I _knew_ Paul. What more with total strangers?

I was starting to tremble. _Calm down, Leah. Breath in, breath out_, I told myself. I can't lose my temper in front of him. I might give him a heart attack and kill him when he sees me turn into a wolf, just like how I killed dad.

"So, where are you staying?" I smiled half-heartedly.

"Beside your mom." He chirped. I started to shake even more. He's going to sleep where dad used to? He's going to have to be shred into hundreds of pieces by yours truly before that even happens. My body arched into a crouch, warming up and shaking even more violently. From the corner of my eye, I saw Seth watch me warily.

"Are you okay? Are you having a seizure?"

"No, no." I breathed in and out again, trying to send the anger away. "Anyway. What about this Randy dude? Where will he stay?"

"He's going to be your roommate. I bet you two will get along well. You don't mind sharing beds, do you?" The world collapsed at my feet. I glanced at my queen-sized bed. Back when I was human, it was too big for me, but when I underwent all the abnormal growth spurts, it was now actually too small. Randy, whoever the fuck he was, would have to sleep on my couch. He should be thankful I even let him. He must look horrible, just like his dad. I bet he inherited his oil problems, making his face sprinkled with pimples galore. I bet he was also bald, and fat, and greasy, and gross. I bet he looked like a bulldog too.

"I'll think about it. Look, I have to go back to sleep, okay? It's really nice to finally meet my mother's phone-sex pal." I turned away, stormed back into my room and slammed the door shut behind me. I tossed the box on my bed, and as it landed, the lid bounced off a bit.

I scrutinized the half-open box. There was something white in it, and it looked like cloth. Out of curiosity, I opened the box in full, and in there was something I wished for for who knows how many years.

It was the dress I saw one day in Seattle, when Sam and I were wondering aimlessly through a street full of boutiques. Then, we came across a wedding shop, and the prettiest dress my eyes have ever seen was on display on the other side of the glass window. He noticed how I couldn't stop staring at it, so he promised me that he'd get it for me on our planned wedding day, September 1, 2007.

I pulled the dress out from the box, and there it was. It was exactly how it looked like behind the glass window on that warm, summer day. It was white, strapless and long, probably up to my ankles. Soft ruffles cascaded all over the cloth that covered my hips down to my feet.

I stripped myself of all my clothing, and thrust the simple yet breathtaking dress unto my frame. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and pirouetted in delight again and again, until I felt dizzy. I was beautiful.

"I'd die just to see you in that, during our wedding." I remember him telling me that that day, kissing me fiercely in front of strangers. Once again, my tears rushed down my cheeks for the billionth time. Yes, he will see me in that dress, on September 1, 2007, but not on _our_ wedding. He'd be seeing me in that dress, on that day, not as his wife but as the bridesmaid.

I know she didn't mean to, but Emily already took my Sam, my reason for living, and now, she's taking the wedding date. It was the only thing I had left that she didn't, but now she did. There was nothing left with me to remember him by, except for the memories.

I didn't notice it until after a few moments—I was starting to cry loudly, my tears falling down and spoiling the beautiful dress.

The door flung open, "Leah, I—" George stopped and stared at me.

"Are you okay?" He rushed to my side and started to wipe my tears away. For Pete's sake! A little privacy, please? It felt horrible—having a stranger butt into your most emotional moments and attempt to make it feel all better. With him here plus that Randy dude, I have no privacy left. Fate could take Sam, my father and everything else away, but just spare the privacy for the moments when I need to break down. I can't believe fate was taking that too.

Suddenly, I remembered this one place that no one knew of, a place I've never set foot on for the last three years. Was I ready to see it again, after years of avoiding it? I closed my eyes and tried to remember what it looked like, what the things were that happened there. For the first time, my heart didn't throb painfully. I was ready.

"I'm fine." I gently shoved George's hand away and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" He asked. I looked back and smiled.

"Away."

**_Well, that's the second chapter. Hang on for the third one if you want more thorough Sam-Leah moments. By the way, thanks for the generous reviews, guys! Hope you don't stop driving me to write with them. Oh yeah, just in case you care, I was listening to "Northern Downpour" by Panic! At the Disco while I was writing this._**


	3. Chapter 3

**T H R E E**

I whirred past the living room, got a pillow and a blanket from the couch, and then I darted to the kitchen.

"Leah Clearwater, what are you doing?" My mother asked in a frenzied voice as I rummaged through the refrigerator like a maniac. I grabbed all the sweets in there—Skittles, M&Ms, Tootsie Roll, Starburst, Milky Way, 3 Musketeers, Snickers and two cans of Dr.Pepper. I found a basket lying around the floor, so I took it and threw all of my junk in there.

"I'm going somewhere. I'll be back before lunch." I kicked the refrigerator door closed.

"It's 4:45 in the morning! Where are you going?" George walked into the kitchen.

"Sue, do you know where Randy and the gang went?" My mother looked at him. For the first time, and probably the only time, I liked George. He distracted my mother, so I dashed out of the back door before she could even stop me.

My house was built facing the beach, while the back part faced the encroaching La Push forest. You could say that my house was in the middle of heaven and hell—the beach and the shore was heaven, while the forest was hell. No one ever dared to wander inside it. I remember watching my father cook some barbeques at the backyard, and out of boredom, I killed time by staring at the forest. It was so mysterious and dark that there were probably loads of all kinds of creatures lurking in it, waiting for someone to kill. Maybe if anyone took five little steps inside it, they'd already die.

That was then. If you were a werewolf, you were probably the deadliest thing that was in there.

I braced myself for the fifteen-minute walk, clutching the pillow and blanket with my left hand, and the basket with my right. I started walking towards it.

You could say that the forest was infested with a hell lot of trees. All of the trees there weren't normal—they were enormously huge, so huge that their roots were already the size of a human. They also had a lot of leaves; so much that sunlight could barely enter the whole place. It was always night time in that forest, even if it was a bright, summer afternoon outside it.

I kept walking forward. There was nothing to be heard but the sound of crickets, the chirping of some birds and the scratching noise my fluffy, bedroom slippers made as it frayed against the dried, fallen leaves.

Finally, the dark blue of dawn filtered in, a sign that I was near. I could already make out the sight of the clearing in between the trees. I was so near. After walking in darkness for minutes, I finally stepped into the azure of dawn and took in the sight of the place I used to love, sending a whirlwind of memories back in my head; memories that I always wanted to forget but were immediately made fresh again.

This place was a patch of nearly treeless ground. Maybe patch wasn't the word because it was huge, the size of grocery store lot. Being nearly treeless, it was the only place in the forest that had light overhead. The ground was covered in thick, lush grass, and in the middle of it stood a lone tree, a tree that was as big as all the others in the forest.

So many things happened here. This was our little hideout, where we'd have a picnic, make a bonfire and talk about random things, like what we'd name our children. This was where daddy knew about us. This was where we met during the pouring rain before we ran away to Forks. This was where he ended it all and ruined my life. In short, this is where it all happened.

I dropped the basket in exasperation. To quench my thirst, I stooped down, grabbed a can of Dr. Pepper and clanked it open, producing that fizzy sound as I did. I walked a few steps towards the lone tree, spread the blanket on top of the grass and threw the pillow right on top. I lied down, propped my head on top of the pillow and looked at the sky. It was a perfect shade of dark blue, and the full moon with its luminous, glowing light was still up. As I gawked at it, I gulped down a sip of the drink. In a matter of seconds, I finished it so I threw it away aimlessly and headed back to the basket to get more

"Hello." I greeted the tree as I walked back to the blanket. "Long time no see, huh?" I patted its rough, rigid trunk. This tree was the only witness to my high school romance, a romance I would and always regret. I circled around it, looking for something that used to make me suicidal. I was quite over it now. I was ready to see it again.

There it was. Carved deep into the tree's trunk were the words 'I love Leah', surrounded by a heart.

"Why do you keep on re-carving it again and again?" I remember asking him that that day. After two hours of chiselling and chiselling again, he withdrew his head from his work, looked at me and smiled.

"Because I want it to last forever, just like my love for you."

Sam was always the corny romantic. "Are you sure it will last _forever_?" I stuck my tongue out.

He cupped my face with both of his hands, leaned forward and planted a small kiss on my lips.

"Forever, I promise."

Maybe I wasn't ready at all. My lips started to quiver, and the tears, they all fell as I collapsed onto the ground.

"You promised me forever." I whispered to myself. I remember telling him that while I was weeping, when he told me about Emily on this very same spot.

"I know, Leah. But things change."


	4. Chapter 4

**F O U R**

Oh, _crap_. If there was anything else other than anger, emotional pain could also trigger a human to involuntarily phase into a wolf. My body was starting to burn, the hottest point being my fingertips. As expected, the violent rumbling of every part of me started.

"Not now!" I roared. I can't phase now. Anytime but now. The beautiful wedding gown, I can't let it get ripped into pieces just like all my other clothes. I raced against time, stripping the gown as fast as I could, fumbling with the zipper. Right on cue, I exploded the moment I thrust it off.

I sighed in relief. Thank god I made it on time.

_Whaddup, Leah?_ A voice said out of nowhere. It was probably someone on patrol, either Jared, Paul or Jacob. Those three sounded so much like each other that it was hard to tell who was who.

_Who are you?_

_Guess who._

_I really don't know, man. Gimme a clue._

_I'm the hottest guy in La Push._

I grunted. Of course. _Hi,_ Paul.

_Wow. Not even a second to think about who the hottest guy in La Push is? I didn't know I was _that_ hot to you._

_Whatever, loser. I only knew it was you because you're the only one capable of such wild dreams. That's why they call it dreams, dumb ass, because they're not reality._

_Nice save. But that won't work on me. Admit it, Ley. I _am_ hot._

I heaved a long, exasperated sigh. This wasn't going anywhere, so I decided to change the subject. _Why are you on patrol? It's Tuesday today, right? And patrol time's up._

_I'm not. I just wanna stretch my legs and run. What about you? Why are you a wolf right now? _

_None of your business. _I sang The Alphabet Song in my head, trying to hide the answer from him-- I was one because I wanted to remember the good old days, then I lost my grip when I figured that I wasn't ready.

_I knew it._

_Knew what?_

_That you're moping about Sam. Again. _He scoffed.

_How did you know?_

_You were thinking about it in the middle of each letter of the alphabet, probably when you were singing, "...E, F, G" off-key. Sheesh, Leah! You're already singing in your head and you _still _get the notes wrong? _He laughed. I really changed ways, but I'm allowng myself to be mean just for now.

_Whatever, loser. At least I'm not a sloppy kisser. Did you see Rachel's face when you kissed her? I'm a girl, I know what fellow girls think, and by the looks of it, she thinks you suck at making out. Too bad that practice with the pillow didn't pay off. _I laughed in my head hysterically. It was killing him, killing his really high self-esteem. Suddenly, I felt what he felt-- pure, raging anger. I just crossed the line.

_That's a foul, Clearwater. I hate to do this, but I _will_._

It happened so fast, so fast that I didn't even get to say sorry. In an instant, he started to recall memories, memories that were mine which unfortunately leaked into his head whenever we were both on patrol.

- - -

My heart was hammering like crazy, and cold sweat trickled down my back.

I felt someone tap my shoulders. "Umm, miss? Are you okay?" A girl with curly, red hair and a freckle coated face asked.

"Y-yeah. Yeah. I'm fine."

"It's just that, you've been so jumpy for so long. And you're really, _really_ pale. Do you want me to bring you to the infirmary?"

"I'm fine, really. Thanks for the concern, though." With that, the girl turned away and went back to her group of friends.

It was my very first day in a real school, and I was already 15. This was because for all my life, I've been home-schooled. For fifteen long years, I was locked inside my house, and the only people I could talk to were my mom, dad and Seth. Now here I am, a truck load of people with me in one room. They were all divided into groups, probably groups of friends, each group far from the others. Near the blackboard were the jocks, to my right were what looked like the nerds, to my left were the girly girls and behind me were the goths. And here I am, in the middle, alone. I didn't belong to any of them nor knew anyone at all. It was just me, with one row all to myself.

The room was teeming with their chatter. A few laughs here, a few shrieks there; and hearing them all together made me feel so small, so out of place. I've never heard so much noise before.

It was September 1, 2004. School officially starts on the 3rd, but the freshmen were asked to come two days prior to that because of a two-day orientation that lasts from 8AM until 12PM. According to the module, day one was all about the school rules and a tour, and day two was an open forum.

The classroom door burst open, and a man who precisely resembled Severus Snape, except that his hair was tied in a ponytail and that he was wearing a scruffy green polo with faded jeans, entered the room.

"Hello, freshmen! And welcome to Quileute High!" His voice boomed with exuberance. He was nothing like Snape.

"I'm Mr. Fletcher, the assistant principal of this school. My students know me as a guy who's straight to the point, so let's get there. I want you all to go into groups of five." Oh, no. My heart started to pound against my ribs as I scanned the room for a group. Everyone was moving about, clutching the hands of their friends. Unwillingly and with trembling hands, I walked to the goths, but they literally hissed at me when I did. I scanned the room again. Not in hell will I group with the the boisterous jocks, so it was the nerds then. I approached their group.

"Sorry, but we're full." The red head from a while ago apologized sweetly. I smiled, although being rejected for the first time was painful.

"Mr. Fletcher! We need one more." A brunette with fox like features hollered. Judging all the pink she was wearing and all the girls in tiny skirt that were surrounding her, she was part of the girly girls.

"You." Mr. Fletcher pointed at me. "You have a group?" I shook my head reluctantly. "You go with them." He gestured towards the girlies.

I sucked in a breath of fresh air, and braced myself. Here I go, my first time to talk to other people, other than my family and the red head. I forced a smile out of my lips, although it would twitch at some points.

"Hi, I'm Leah." My mother always told me that being friendly was the key. They looked at me from head to toe, and then looked away, like I suddenly turned invisible.

_That's okay. All you have to do is get through this day, then everything will be alright. _I hugged myself, trying my best to avoid crying on the first day of school, in front of absolute strangers.

"Okay, I want you guys to go to room one." He gestured at us. We all headed for the door, ready to find wherever that room was.

"Wait, this _is_ room one. Sorry, sorry. Go find yourselves a seat." We walked back into the room. I took the seat that was at the very back while the others took ones close to the board. There was a huge space of unoccupied chairs between us. After that, Mr. Fletcher gave the other groups their respective rooms, leaving me alone with my snobby new schoolmates. Geez, studying in a school didn't look _this_ hard on T.V.

"Your student guides will be here in a few minutes. They're former sophomore students who are incoming juniors, so I guess there's just a two year gap although that shouldn't hinder you from showing them respect. Follow everything they tell you and everything will go well." He said stiffly. From Mr. Nice Guy, he abruptly turned into Severus Snape, and the way he looked and suddenly acted like him made me shiver.

After a long moment of glancing out of the window while the girls babbled and giggled about their love lives, the door finally flung open and a friendly looking girl with wavy black hair and a genuine smile entered. Like what Mr. Fletcher said, she only looked a few years older.

"Hello, girls!" She greeted us blithely. "I'm Rebecca Black. My assistant guide just took a bathroom break and--" The door flung open again, and there he was.

He walked in, and for some reason, all the girls sat straight and looked at nothing but his direction, like he was a north pole of a magnet and they were the south. I scrutinized him. Sure, he was good looking-- well-cropped jet black hair with one spike hovering above his forehead, russet coloured skin, intense, black eyes, a sharp, angular nose, prominent cheek bones, full, vital lips, a stressed jaw line and an obvious cleft. Like me, the bridge of his nose and his cheeks were tinted pink with sunburn. I had to laugh when I saw his body-- his chest way larger than mine, like they were going to burst free from his white, body-hugging sweat shirt. His arm muscles looked like they wanted to burst free too. He was all that, but it wasn't enough to get me hypnotized like the rest, I mean, it's just a guy! He was just like any other guy, except that he wasn't so ordinary when it came to his looks.

"Sorry I'm late." He apologized in a deep, alluring voice. Rebecca, who I suppose was taller than me, was only up to his chin. He eyed the room, and his eyebrows furrowed by the time he saw me. Maybe he was wondering about why I was a loner.

"I'm Samuel Uley. Just call me Sam."

"Sam." I heard one of the girls sigh his name dreamily. Maybe this was the effect of being isolated for fifteen years-- you don't and probably would never understand why girls liked boys. There was one thing I understood though, it's that I _really_ can't see myself living a day falling for one, or even liking one for that matter.


	5. Chapter 5

**F I V E**

_Sam._

From the corner of my eye, I saw a hand shoot itself into the air; someone had already finished the pop quiz, and only in a minute. The hand was too far at the back, so it was probably Leah's. I tried to ignore it as it waved furiously around and around, frustrated that no one came to get her paper. Her hand was up after a lot of seconds. They probably hurt by now. With pity, I walked towards Rebecca.

"Clearwater's done." I whispered under my breath, doing my best to reduce any movement that my lips made. Rebecca stood from her seat and raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you get her paper yourself?"

"Too lazy." I lied. She tapped her heels, demanding for the truth. _C'mon, woman! Buy it!_

"I'm going to get to the bottom of things. Later." Finally, Rebecca turned around and walked towards Leah.

I only knew her today-- that Leah Clearwater kid, but there was something about her that killed me, that wrapped me, for some weird reason, around her little finger.

She wasn't devastatingly beautiful nor fucking hot. Heck, the kid was so normal, so nondescript, but there was something about her, and I couldn't put a finger on it, that drew me in a way that's so...inhuman. Maybe it was because she sat at the very corner of the room, making her stick out among all the other girls. Maybe it was because she was the only one who wasn't staring at me anymore. Maybe it was because she was new and that I've never seen her before and because La Push was too damn small that you'd get sick of seeing the same faces every stinking day. Yeah, maybe that, but maybe not that.

To me, she looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, so afraid, so fragile, so terrified. The way her eyes moved about the room, those eyes that broadcasted the fact that she was scared, it made anyone who looked into it feel with her. She looked weak to me, like she could cry for no reason the moment you touch her, and I was born with a soft spot for the oppressed. For some reason, I felt like I was born to protect her from danger.

"Okay. Pass your papers." Rebecca announced to everyone else who was too darn slow to finish ahead of Leah. All the other girls stood from their seats and dropped their papers on Rebecca's desk with eyes still glued on me.

Girls, so predictable. They're all the same-- they like guys who they think are 'hot'. Was that how life works now, that looks are the basis of love? If that was so, then damn the world for being too shallow. Sure, I send them infinite thanks for flattering me, for building my self-esteem with all the compliments and what not, but I need more than that. There are so many of them who I could have liked, but what if I was mauled by a bear? I'd lose my face, and those girls' love. I want someone who'd love me not for how I look like but for who I am. Girls that are like that are impossible to find.

I shook my head in disappointment. Why did I have to be Mr. Pure Love yada, yada? If I could just settle down with one of those girls who like me for my face, then I'd finally have my first girlfriend, and my friends' taunting would finally stop.

"Now that we're done with all that has to do with Quileute High, we'll move on to the last thing on the list, the open forum. Do you have any questions for me?" Rebecca said as she thumbed through the papers. Hands shot themselves into the air, its owners wiggling in anticipation. I don't get it. Who in this world would be agitated over one, fucking question? I sighed and shook my head again.

My eyes would occasionally decide to just dart to Leah. The girl didn't look so breakable now. She looked pissed, like she wanted to get the hell out of here. Impatiently, she drummed her fingers against her desk, stomping her feet as she glanced at the wall clock with a scowl. It was a cute scowl, a childish one, and to top it all off, her cheeks were in a vital glow of pink. When we both heard one of the girls ask about prom night, she rolled her eyes in the most irresistible, breathtaking way. I hated myself for once, for not being to put its beauty into words. I grabbed my trusty notebook and flipped it open to a fresh page, hunting mentally for words perfect enough, but none came out. I guess not even Shakespeare could find them, but I was determined to whip his ass, so I looked back at Leah.

Suddenly, her eyes darted and burned into mine. It happened so fast-- I jolted and looked away, making it obvious to her that I was looking for so long a time.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it. _I cursed raspily. If there was one thing I really hated, it was being caught off-guard, especially by a girl. To tell you the truth, this _is_ the first time I was caught off-guard by a girl.

* * *

_Leah._

"Rebecca, where does like, prom night like, happen?" Goodness, that was perhaps the only sentene I've heard which used the word 'like' for so many times. I rolled my eyes. Geez, when will this crappola thing end?

Boredom kills, and in this situation, the only way to kill it is to stare at random. The big figure who was ludicrously cramped in one tiny seat stood out from view. Sam sure needs a bigger chair. He looked so serious at the moment, like he was answering a question that spelled life from death. His eyes were narrowed intensely as it glanced down at a page of a notebook.

In a snap, his head went up and he looked at me, and the nanosecond after that, he abruptly looked away, like I was Medusa who was going to turn him into stone. Was I _that_ scary?

"Prom night usually happens in First Beach. Torches of fire, lights all around the trees, night sky, salty sea air, you get the picture." Rebecca said drily, wanning in no interest. At that, all the other girls screamed their heads off. Sheesh.

"Rebecca?" One of the girls waved her hands in the air.

"Yes, Charlotte?"

"What about love? I mean, they say your highschool romance is the best one ever."

"Uhh, could you be more specific?"

"Is love life, like, very active in high school?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm actually on my ninth guy!" She said in a very proud manner. Great, I thought Rebecca was different from all the other girls. Turns out she was also a boy-loving, love sick shizz. In that little second, I lost all my respect for her.

"What abot you, Leah? What do you say about love? I never heard from you today." She exhorted. Everyone turned around to look at me, making me feel like I was shrinking by the minute.

I really didn't have anything to say about love and all that yahoo, so I shrugged.

"Come on, Leah! Anything." She pleaded with a grin. It was rude to turn her down, so reluctantly, I said, "I think love's only for the fools of the world." The moment I realized that I said it in a room full of love lovers, remorse washed over me.

"If that's what you say." The grin was wiped off her face and from the corner of my eye, I could see Sam jot things down his notebook. Was I being observed? Will my behaviour for this day count? All I know is that my answer sucked, and I'm doomed. Oh well.

After an hour of open forum, the bell rang. Everyone ran out of the room and spilled into the hall, Sam being the fastest. He was so quick with packing his things compared to me. I was too slow that I was the last one who made it out.

"Congratulations, me." I hugged myself. I made it! I survived a day in school! One down, hundreds more to go, but that was a start, right? I headed for the door with a goofy and yet tired smile, but something big and black caught me eye.

I spun around and saw a black notebook on top of Sam's desk. It was probably the notebook where he put all his observations about us. I looked back, making sure no one was here with me, and the moment I knew I was alone, I shuffled through his notebook's pages. He might already realize that he left it here, so I shuffled through it fast.

It wasn't what I thought it was after all. It was a notebook full of poems and haikus that were dark and yet just _so _beautiful. Some had words that were too deep that I couldn't make any sense out of it, but I could tell it was a work of art. Some poems were understandable, and I could really relate to them and how he feels. There was a poem about how he doesn't understand why students have to study, and hands down to that! There was one poem where he asks about his existence, and one about being loveless. All in all, he was so good that the word 'amazing' couldn't even cover it. He was more than that. He was better than Edgar Allan Poe or Shakespeare or Pablo Neruda. Actually, he wasn't anything like them. He was just...Sam.

My favorite poem would have to be the last one called "Leah". It was overflowing with words of hopelessness, of love, of curiousity and of confusion one girl brings, and that was all I could understand. Everything else was just too obsolete and archaic, but I was sure it was stunning. My favourite part would probably be the last line: "If love was made only for the fools of the world, then from deep within my heart I'd say, that I'd be the luckiest person in the world, if you let me be your fool someday."


End file.
